Victims
by Stargazer Nataku
Summary: Gordon nodded his agreement, over twenty years of experience telling him that sometimes the end is nothing more than whimpers or gasps in the dark, when the victim is taken so by surprise that there is no chance to fight back. No chance even to scream.


_**Victims**_

_**By**_

_**Stargazer Nataku**_

Gordon looked out over the crime scene, Stephens standing silently by his side as the investigators worked, searching for evidence efficiently yet quickly against the looming threat of an evening rain. "This is the fifth body with the same M.O," Stephens said. "Victim is apparently a prostitute who shows no sign of defensive wounds. Cause of death two knife wounds; the first in the lower back, the second across the throat. No one we can find saw anything, no one heard anything. We'll keep searching, but I doubt we'll find any witnesses." Gordon nodded his agreement, over twenty years of experience telling him that sometimes the end is nothing more than whimpers or gasps in the dark, when the victim is taken so by surprise that there is no chance to fight back. No chance even to scream. Just the sheer, black, crushing loneliness of the end.

Gordon took a deep breath of the crisp fall air before turning his back on the scene. "Keep me informed," he told Stephens quietly. "Of course, Commissioner," Stephens said, and Gordon walked back to his car. He was nearly there when his buzzed in the depths of his pocket and he fished it out, flipping it open. "Gordon."

"Jim." His wife's voice was calm and toneless, though he felt the force of the accusation behind the simple word.

"Hi, honey. What's going on?"

"Are you coming home soon? I'm about to start getting the kids ready for bed, and Jimmy's asking for you."

"Sure, honey. I'm just getting in the car. I'll be home in time to tuck them in."

"Okay."

"I'll see you soon." The phone disconnected and Gordon dropped it onto the passenger seat, then belted himself in, started the car, and pulled slowly away.

* * *

The bloodless body in the gutter still weighed heavily on his mind as he unlocked the door and entered the house, to be met at the door by his daughter, already bathed and in her nightgown. "Hey Babs," he said, putting his keys down before he swung her up into her arms. "Where's your brother?"

"Brushing his teeth. I did mine already." She showed him with a grin.

"Looks perfect," he assured her with a smile.

"Are you going to tuck me in?"

"Sure," Gordon answered. "Let me get changed first though, okay sweetie?" She nodded and he set her down; she raced ahead of him up the stairs, calling to her mother and brother that he was home. Gordon removed his coat and hung it up beside his children's on the pegs in the hall, then followed her up.

Barbara met him in the hall and he kissed her cheak in greeting. "Another long day," she commented.

"There's nothing but these days," he answered. "I'm sorry."

"Well, you're here now." He nodded as the bathroom door opened.

"Hey, Jimmy," he said, ruffling his son's hair. "Good day at school?" The boy nodded.

"Mrs. Jenkins dissected a frog."

"Pretty neat." Jimmy shrugged.

"Yeah I guess," he answered.

"Why don't you hop in bed, I'll change, and then you can tell me all about it, okay?" Jimmy nodded and went into his room. "I can take over from here if you'd like Barbara." She nodded her agreement and, after saying goodnight to the children, went downstairs again.

* * *

Barbara was in the kitchen, sitting at the Formica table with a mug of coffee in between her hands. Jim went to the refrigerator and took out the plate she'd saved for him from dinner, putting it into the microwave before going to pour his own cup of coffee while he waited for to the food to reheat. The silence was heavy as he crossed back over to the microwave, sipping his coffee as he watched the plate spin inside of it. When it beeped, he grabbed a fork and returned to the table to sit. "It looks good, Barbara," he said as he took a bite of the mashed potatoes.

"It was good," she answered, and silence fell again as he ate and she sipped her coffee. He pondered finding something else to say; secretively glancing at his wife, he took in the set look on her face and instead took a bite of his pork chop. "Jimmy saw the counselor again today," Barbara finally told him.

"Yeah?"

"Yes." Another silence, thick and accusatory.

"And?"

"He's doing okay."

"Good." Gordon took another bite of his dinner.

"The counselor agreed that Jimmy should take some time away." That caught Jim's attention and he looked up at her. "From Gotham. From being afraid."

"Agreed?"

"I mentioned it as a possibility."

"You…"

"Yes, Jim." For the first time she looked up and their eyes met across the gulf of the table. "I've already talked to my parents. They have the space, and the schools in their neighborhood are good. The kids can thrive there while I look for a job."

"Honey…" he said, and there was a long, pained silence where they just stared at each other across the table. "Don't…"

"Don't what?"

"Don't make me choose between my family and my job." The ache in his voice was almost tangible, and they stared at each other for a long moment, and he saw as if for the first time the tired slump of her shoulders, the circles shadowing her eyes. There were no tears, however, and her voice was steady when she spoke again, though resignation and hurt vibrated in each word.

"I'm not, Jim," she said, almost inaudibly. It took a long moment for the meaning of her words to sink in, a moment in which their eyes held across the gulf separating them. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words stuck in his throat, and he found nothing else to do but set his fork down on the side of the plate, the clink of metal on china loud and accusatory in the utter silence and stillness of the kitchen. "It's been…it's been a long time coming, Jim," Barbara said as she rose, abandoning her coffee cup to stare out the window over the sink, her back to him. "You know that." His hands dropped into his lap, and he found himself unable to shift his gaze to follow her. When his silence stretched on, she turned and came to squat down beside where he was sitting. "Part of me will always love you. But the rest of me isn't strong enough to do this anymore, not even for the kids."

"I know," he finally managed, breaking the silence. "God help me, Barbara, I know." As she rose, she kissed his cheek before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Another moment, and her feet were soft on the linoleum as she moved towards the living room. "Barbara?" The footsteps stopped as she paused, and there was a subtle noise of someone turning. He could not find it within himself to do the same. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"Oh, Jim," she said quietly. "I know." He heard the hint of tears in her voice. "I am too." Another moment, where his body ached to rise, to cross the room and pull her into an embrace, but it passed and he remained seated where he was as her footsteps crossed the living room and made their way up the stairs and down the hall to their bedroom. In the distance, a door clicked shut with quiet finality.

No chance to fight back. No chance even to scream.

* * *

A/N: Gugh. This feels a lot darker than I intended it to, at least to me. Hopefully you like it. Constructive criticism and comments always welcomed and encouraged. :-) Thanks for reading! Nataku


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